reflections on lives and loves

Menu

I’ve been feeling…I’m not sure the word. Mentally floppy. All over the place. Spread unevenly. A little lost. I’m trying to change my mental attitude. This is yoga: Vitarke Badhane Pratipaksha Bhavanam: When doubt arises, cultivate the opposite mental attitude. It’s been, for years, the yoga sutra that speaks to me the loudest. It works … Continue reading →

These are things I don’t want to forget: I always tried to sit by Bubby at meals and holidays. I liked helping her open the Sweet-n-Low packets for her tea when her arthritis kept her from doing it herself. Bubby loved to take me shopping when I was a girl. She would circle the parking … Continue reading →

As is the custom at the end of a year and the beginning of a new one, I’ve been reflecting. Really, tonight is no different from any other night. Tomorrow, Abraham will wake me up around 7 or 7:30 if I’m lucky. I’ll make some breakfast for the kids. We’ll play, chat, read. I’ll say … Continue reading →

I just pulled up Howlround.com, a online theater journal, to get the link for an article to post on my theater company’s page, when whose little photo did I see by an article but my very favorite professor. I may have cried a little as I read it. In part because she is so bright … Continue reading →

There are so many things I want to write about, but at the end of the day, I usually just want to rip out my contact and sleep. But. It was just Rosh HaShanah, the Jewish New Year. This time between the new year and Yom Kippur, the day of Atonement, always get me thinking. … Continue reading →

So, after a lot of stress and love, Abraham weaned himself. A week after his 18 month-iversary, he pulled my shirt back over my breast when I offered it to him before nap. And again before bed. And again the next morning. And then I didn’t offer. And he didn’t ask. It is bittersweet, but mostly … Continue reading →

Abraham busted his lip for the first time. He’s had skinned knees and assorted bruises, but today there was blood (only a little) and tears (many). He only runs from place to place, which means that busted lips are bound to happen. I keep thinking about writing a post like “How to Fly with a … Continue reading →